We Need To Talk
by Fiercest
Summary: When Yuuri receives a text from Victor one morning, he tries very hard not to panic. You cannot send a text saying 'we need to talk' to someone with anxiety.


When Yuuri receives a text from Victor one morning, he tries very hard not to panic.

Vitenka (Blue heart, purple heart, gold medal, eggplant, hearteyes emoji): _We need to talk tonight after dinner with Yura._

Perhaps Yuuri has been exposed to too much pop culture during his time in the States, but to him 'we need to talk' never spells out anything good. He resists the urge to immediately text back a thousand questions and demands about what they would be talking about, if he was okay, what Yuuri did wrong and if he would find his own suitcase packed and left by the door, or would he have to pack it all up himself when Viktor kicked him to the curb?

Yuuri had a really good morning. He woke up on his own, which was a miracle unto itself. To celebrate beating Viktor to consciousness, he kissed his fiancé awake. And _may_be they were a little late getting out of bed because of it. "I'm sure my coach won't mind," Yuuri had teased and touched his nose to Viktor's, then kissed his cheek. When he pulled away, Viktor was bright pink, from nose to ears and his smile was soppy and sweet. "You can't say things like that!" Viktor had complained before throwing his arms around Yuuri, "It's too adorable, I won't survive. You're trying to kill me aren't you? Is this so I won't make you do suicides again? I knew it! My Yuuri is so cruel!" All the while, smothering Yuuri by rolling on top of him.

A really good morning. They'd skipped their run because of it, went straight to the rink (where Yuuri and Viktor both cleanly skated their new programs for the first time). Then lunch together before parting ways for cross training.

That was fifteen minutes ago. What could have changed that Viktor could possibly want to talk about?! Or maybe it was about lunch or practice or this morning and he just hadn't worked up the courage to talk to him yet. Maybe he's been plotting a way to let him down easy. If so, Yuuri feels terrible about this morning, but also, incredibly glad that at least he'll have one last time to remember him by.

But maybe it wasn't as good for Viktor as it was for Yuuri? If Yuuri was doing something wrong, why wouldn't Viktor just tell him? He could get better, probably. He hears there are advice columns all over the internet. He listens to podcasts on long runs now, there must be one that tells you how to be better in bed so your five-time gold medalist, perfect specimen of manhood fiancé stays in love with you.

"Katsudon, you've been in that forward split for ten minutes, are you showing off or did you fall asleep?" Yurio is sharing his ballet session. He hides his worry poorly. Or maybe Yuuri just knows him well at this point. His heart sinks. He'll miss him so much when Viktor dumps him and he has to move back to Hasetsu and retire.

Yuuri shrugs and hopes he doesn't pry further. The sixteen-year-old doesn't. Instead he nudges him into pair stretches.

The anxiety chews on his heart, feral and unrelenting in its hunger. Yuuri's own mind won't rest until it consumes him one rending bite at a time.

While he does a pas de bourré into a plié, then saute, he circles back to the way he felt when Viktor first came to Hasetsu. He'd wondered then, how this could possibly be his life. He kept his distance out of self-preservation, because when Viktor eventually grew bored and left, any closeness would be ripped away, taking parts of him along with it. Yuuri could not afford to become dependent on Viktor's kindness. Or later, Viktor's love. Except it didn't matter what Yuuri could and could not afford to feel. His foolish heart learned to beat for him, to the rhythm of the programs they choreographed together.

Yuuri's stupid soul would suffer now that the inevitable had arrived.

Yurio clearly doesn't want to leave Yuuri alone. Their cooldown session is quiet and punctuated by the boy starting a sentence and interrupting himself. It's unlike him. Yuuri wants to pull him into his arms. That's unlike him too.

"Stop looking at me like that. It's freaking me out," Yurio spits. "Why do you look like someone died? Is the idiot—" he means Viktor, "Ill?" he seems unconcerned by the prospect, but then he pales as something occurs to him, "Are _you_ ill? Is Makkachin?"

And because Yuuri does not want to lie to him, but also does not want to tell him the truth at all ever, he throws his hands up and shakes his head. "No, no, nothing like that. Just in my own head today." This is true every day, but it would be impossible to explain the day to day torment of living inside of his own brain. Plus, it might traumatize Yurio and make him second guess his decision to allow Yuuri and Viktor to ostensibly, semi-non-officially adopt him. Oh no… who gets to keep Yurio in the divorce?

Divorce? Oh god. Divorced before they've even made it to the altar. Maybe, now that Viktor is feeling inspired and skating again, he doesn't need Yuuri in his life after all.

Yurio neatly answers the question of 'who gets custody in the divorce' by dragging him out the door and declaring that he's going to drive Yuuri's car home. Maybe custody is relative and Yurio takes care of himself.

He's supposed to be supervising said driving since Yurio technically does not have a license, but instead Yuuri stares on the passenger window until he gets nauseous and has to close his eyes. The car stops and he opens them to find they're at a grocery store.

"Your moron husband forgot to pick up garlic."

"Not married," he says and swallows down the bitter _yet_ that gets stuck in his throat.

Yurio groans, "Have you not gotten that over with yet?" He knows very well that they haven't. They once joked about eloping, which Yurio pretended not to have an apoplectic fit over. Viktor promises they'll make Yurio their flower boy. Privately, Yuuri eggs him on because he knows that deep down, beyond the fury, he's actually very touched.

Yurio takes one look at him and rolls his eyes, "Wait in the car," he orders and slams the door. Yuuri listens and tries to take on the terrible spiralling tornado of fear. He needs to at least find the eye because it's starting to suck the oxygen out of everything.

_We need to talk we need to talk we need to talk we need to-_

Soon, the door opens again and Yurio slides in. "Finally, the line was so-" Yuuri startles and realizes there are tears on his cheeks. "Why are you crying?! Stop it!" He's still not very good with Emotions™, but he's doing his best. Yuuri and Viktor just have _so many_ between them, it's unreasonable to expect him to keep up. Generally, when the tears arrive, Yurio shoves him into Viktor's arms. Yuuri's not keen on that option at this moment.

They make it home with only a few awkward glances between them. The teen has his own key so he lets them in.

Yuuri doesn't know what he was expecting to find upon returning home.

(Lies. As previously noted, he expected suitcases and packed bags and Viktor's solemn face as he handed the ring back. He imagined kindness and pity but not love in his eyes. He wondered which would be his proble, if he'd be able to beg or be able to stop himself from begging. He knows he'd have cried, he doesn't know if he'd have been able to speak at all.)

But Viktor is bustling around the kitchen, singing to himself. In the span of this moment, Yuuri exists outside of his worries. Ten feet away, the love of his life is making a family recipe that Hiroko passed on to him. He sings, and Yuuri's not so far gone that he thinks Viktor a nightingale, but he loves the sound all the same. His bangs are clipped back behind his ear, his cheeks are rosy from the warmth of the stove. He dances around the kitchen, swaying his hips to the rhythm in his head. Then Yuuri realizes that he hasn't looked up because he's wearing headphones and hasn't heard them yet.

Yurio aggressively removes his hat and launches it at Viktor in one motion. The older man startles and catches it, right before it falls onto a burner. "Vot tye na!" But then he sees them and his whole face lights up. It's like watching dawn break over the mountains back. "You're home!"

He's not going to leave him. When Viktor looks at him, it's hard for Yuuri to deny that he is loved because Viktor lays it all out in the open. He has never hidden his regard or intentions for even a moment. He loves wholly and without reservation.

The moment ends. The demons pipe up. Yuuri has been wrong before.

He tells himself all the things his therapist told him to. That he is safe. He is loved. He can trust the people around him. He's going to be okay.

Dinner is a trial. Yuuri usually loves these dinners and he's furious with himself for ruining what might be their last one. Because Viktor wants _to talk_. He gets quieter and quieter and shrinks down into his chair until he can't take it anymore.

Viktor keeps the conversation going. He is cheerful and upbeat, but he keeps sneaking glances Yuuri's way. Can he not wait to get this over with? Is he itching to be rid of him? He's bad company, he knows it. He should be a better host, for Yurio at least. Who wants to be with someone who's always sad and anxious, dragging down everyone around them. Viktor asks about Yurio's day like the proud dad he is. Viktor would make such a good dad. In the vague way that he considers his future after skating, Yuuri hoped he'd get to co-parent with him someday. Again. From the beginning. Not that having a 15-year-old rage monster drop into their laps wasn't a blessing. Maybe that's part of it, who knows? He wouldn't choose himself as a co-parent either.

Viktor holds his phone aloft, loudly reading all of Otabek's tweets that Yurio has liked in the past 48 hours, while the kid tries to climb him like a tree to steal it and throw it down the garbage disposal. "Give it here old man, at least my twitter's not some disgusting shrine to Katsudon like yours is-!"

"No, you took down the shrine to Yuuri in your locker when we moved to St-Petersburg!" He teases, "Is the one in your room at your Zaida's house still up?"

"SHUT UP!"

And that's all it takes, it's all over for Yuuri. He starts to laugh and he starts to cry and the two men in his life stop roughhousing immediately, to stare at him in abject horror. They've both gotten better at dealing with crying, in their own ways, but they're still terrible. They glance at each other, then back at him, then back at each other.

"Hey! Don't cry! Look what you did asshole, you made Katsudon emotional!"

"Yuuri, oh no, are you okay? What should I do? Do you need-?"

Yuuri hiccups and tries to calm down, but he's suddenly hyperventilating. "I…hic…I'm just…hic… I'm so happy," he sobs. "I don't want this to end."

"Twice in one day? Why are you always crying?"

Viktor looks nonplussed, "You were crying earlier? He was crying earlier? When?" his gaze switches back and forth between the two Yuris, worry blooming like a bruise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Yurio doesn't seem to know what to do. He can't drive himself home and he clearly does not want to be here for this conversation. He pushes back from the table, and because he was raised right, he takes his plate with him and deposits it in the dishwasher. "I'll be in the guest room, he better not be crying when I come out." It seems silly to Yuuri, to refer to it as the guest room, when he's the only one who ever stays in it.

He was worried before, but now Viktor looks panicked, "Yuuri…"

"What did you want to talk about?" he says in a rush. He wants to get this over with. He doesn't want to get this over with.

Viktor ignores the question.

"Zolotse," Viktor switches to the chair closest to Yuuri and scoots it even closer, so he can get his hands on him. "Why are you crying if you're happy?"

Yuuri accepts the hug, lets himself succumb to it, "Because I want to keep it. I don't want anything to change. Please just… can we not talk about this?"

Viktor pulls away suddenly, violently, to look him in the eye. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, I just thought…" He closes his mouth and looks grim. "Never mind. It's fine. Forget I said anything. Everything is fine. I am fine."

Yuuri is not convinced. Viktor's pain enables Yuuri to function in a way he can't for himself. He wants to reach out, to comfort him now. Why is Viktor's heart breaking before his very eyes?

"Wait," he orders, grabbing his hand to keep him from running away. "I'm sorry. Anything you need to tell me, you can tell me. I'll listen, I'll always listen to you. What did you want to tell me?"

"It's not about getting married," Viktor swears, and it's a crack in poor Yuuri's resolve to listen. It's cruel of him, to reject him so blatantly though. "I promise I won't pressure you. Whenever you're ready. I know I said when you win gold, but just because you won doesn't mean we have to. You owe me five after all," Panicked, "I'm joking! Everything can stay exactly the same. I'm lucky to have that much. I won't ask for more, I won't."

"…So… you don't want to marry me." He thought he was prepared, but _he was not._

Viktor once accused him of willfully misunderstanding him when they fight. He reminds him of this now. "That is not what I said! I've wanted to marry you since the day we met. You can even ask Chris. I said that to him. At the banquet I told him, 'I am going to marry that man, unless he is straight. Please Chris, tell me that he is not straight because I will cry', I swear."

"So you're not leaving me?" Yuuri is wary of getting his hopes up.

"Leave you?!"

The way he says it makes Yuuri defensive, like he's being ridiculous. "You texted me that we need to talk!"

"Yes. Admittedly, your English is better, but how does that translate to breaking up?"

"Everyone knows that 'we need to talk' is code for 'it's not me, it's you', which is code for 'it's definitely you'!"

"What." Viktor scratches his nose. "This is an American thing?"

"_Yes."_

"So what do you say if you really just need to talk about something?"

This gives Yuuri pause, because he actually doesn't know. He shrugs, "Not fucking that." He might still be a little hysterical.

"Yuuuuuuuriiiiii!"

He sighs, "You know how my mind can be. I guess when I read your text, it got away from me, I thought of the worst case scenario and I spiralled."

"Okay," of course, Viktor is ever on a quest to be accommodating of Yuuri's mental illness. "Then I won't do that. I won't prepare you. I'll just surprise you!"

_Wait. Is that worse? That might be worse._

"Surprise! I want to get a puppy! Thoughts?"

"What about Makka?"

"I think Makka could use a little brother or sister! She gets so lonely." Upon hearing her name, Makkachin, who is very spoiled for attention, woofs from her fancy premium dog bed and prances over to join them. She drops her chin on Yuuri's thigh, in an oddly accurate representation of her dad's pout. "Look at her Yuuri, don't you want another?"

He can't believe he questioned whether or not Viktor wanted to co-parent with him. They share custody of a poodle.

"And the angriest kitten in all the land!" Viktor adds, when Yuuri verbalizes this.

"HEY!" They all jump and spin around. Yurio stands in the kitchen, holding a cup of water, peering suspiciously over the rim. "You better not be talking about me!"

They are definitely talking about him.

Later, they're halfway through a movie and Yurio is asleep on the other couch. Viktor and Yuuri snuggle beneath a blanket and Makkachin snoozes on the ottoman by their feet. "I love you," Viktor says into Yuuri's hair, "And I want things to change," he admits bravely. "But only if you want those things too."

"More dogs?"

They smile.

"More dogs, more rings, more moody teenagers maybe?"

"Can we get those as puppies too?" Yuuri asks, lips against Viktor's temple.

"Yuuri!" he cries in delight, "Are you asking me to be your baby daddy?"

"YOU TWO ARE DISGUSTING!"

Oops. The kitten is awake after all.

.

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**a/n:** I have a lot of feelings about the viktuuriyuri fam. And the character I relate most to is Yurio? So I dunno man, have an anxiety riddled fic feat. true love and angry child. I hope you enjoyed it!


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